Norah
by Starrika
Summary: A series of drabbles from the POV of an OC called Norah Gregory, a student at Sky High. No shipping.
1. Mother's Day

It's Mother's Day- a day to honor your mother. How appropriate.

My mother was Lady Justice.

My mother was amazing. I know most people would say that about their mothers, especially if their mother was a superhero, but my mother was truly special. Not because she could read minds, or move things with her own, but because of who she was outside of her powers.

Anna Honor: Wife, mother, and friend.

She died when I was nine.

Before, I remember long summer days of ice cream and water balloons – my mother would never fight fair – and her coming to every t-ball game I played. She was there every day I got off the school bus and even made cookies for the class on my birthday.

And, every day when my father came home from work, she would throw her arms around him so tight and say, "I'm so glad you're home."

Then he would swing me up in his arms – like he was the superhero of the family – and ask how our day had been.

It was normal and extraordinary.

When I was nine, everything changed. There was a fight – I don't know much more than that – between Baron Battle and other superheroes, like the Commander and Jetstream, and of course, my mother. No great fight was complete without Lady Justice.

Only, nothing was complete after that day in October.

Something happened, something went wrong. Instead of my mother coming home like she would – her eyes tired, but with a glow of satisfaction – my mother never came back. Baron Battle went to jail. My mother went to heaven.

I don't think I'll ever forgive him for that.


	2. Sidekick

I was made a sidekick.

It's no surprise, really, given that my father has no powers at all, but it seemed like everyone stared. Even Principle Powers called me to her office, asking if I needed to try again, handling me as if my mother had died yesterday instead of six years ago.

I had a hard enough time with the little powers I have. I'd rather be a sidekick than have to deal with what my mother had to. She was telepathic and telekinetic.

It's much easier being an empath.

It wasn't always, of course. After my mother died, my powers exploded, feeding off the emotions around me. My father and I were stuck in a feedback loop of grief – he unable to move on because of me, and my grief compounded by his. When I was finally able to go to school, I was overwhelmed. I had no control, no way to block the emotions of people around me.

No way to block the emotions of Warren Peace.

He simmered with anger, glaring daggers at everyone around him. I wanted to hate him, too, but the grief under his anger only made me cry. I only lasted three days back at school before my father kept me home – I was a mess by the time I reached recess every day.

After that, there was a barrage of tutors, some better than others. Control eventually came too, as well as some faint telepathy when I was touching someone. And I was fine with that.

I didn't even want to go to Sky High. I wanted no part in heroes and sidekicks, battles and wars. I wanted my solitude.

Instead, I got sidekick and this ridiculous school for something I don't even want to do, with people I don't even know.

Except Warren Peace, of course.

The first day, I passed him in the hall, and that familiar anger made me feel as if I was nine all over again.

Thank god I was made a sidekick.


	3. Quiet

For me, a regular day at high school is like riding a roller coaster. No matter how much control I have, emotions will seep into my consciousness, making me wonder what emotions are mine and which are alien.

_He likes me. I can't believe she said that! Why won't he pay attention to me? I hate school. It's not fair!_

And then, of course, someone will brush up against me in the hall, and on top of the feelings, I get their thoughts in stereo for a split second. No matter how much control I master, there's no way to entirely block a mass of overdramatic teenagers.

And we are. Overdramatic, I mean. Why else are there so many television shows about high school?

Everyone worries about this boy or that girl, who's popular, who's fighting – I do, too. It's hard not to think about that cute boy in hero support who sits in front of me, or why Amanda and Sean are fighting (again) over Jessica.

But being an empath makes things a bit more difficult. It's hard to talk to that cute boy when you can tell he's trying not to stare at the girl with purple streaks in her hair, or to hear Amanda trying to be friendly to Jessica when I can tell she hates her.

I block as much as I can, but classrooms are close quarters, and someone is always bumping into me. My one salvation is study hall, which Principle Powers arranged after the first week of classes.

I think she and my mother were friends.

She lets me use the detention room, with its beautiful silence. No thoughts, no emotions, just me. It's the only way I can actually keep up with classes. I get my study period at the end of the day, and most times, I stay through detention, too.

Even if the kids in there with me think I'm a badass or something for always being here, I don't know. Well, at least, not while I'm studying in there. In that room, there's _nothing_. I'm nothing.

It's a beautiful thing.


	4. Friendship

Sometimes I wonder if I've ever had a true opinion of a person in my life. Even when I was little, the empathy was there, influencing who I liked and who I didn't.

It's hard to hate someone when they're truly nice. It's also hard to like someone when all you can sense is jealously.

When I was little, it wasn't as strong. The empathy wasn't even noticeable, it was more like subconscious thought – it was almost as if I had a choice.

But as I got older, the empathy grew, the small stirrings of telepathy following. I can't imagine how my mother retained her sanity. How do you trust anyone when you can hear their private thoughts?

I guess that's why I don't have many friends. It's hard to not feel intrusive when I already know what they're feeling, even before they speak. It's hard to explain that sometimes, I can't help invade their privacy and that it truly is beyond my control. The emotional powers have always been notoriously hard to master.

And pretty much good for nothing. But I don't want to be a superhero or a sidekick, anyway.

Not that I have much of a choice.

So I've got my small group of friends – Amanda and Sean, and Jessica, too, when she's not avoiding the fights, and it's not like anyone's mean to me. Pretty much everyone in hero support is nice. It's the whole we're-not-the-popular-kids thing, I guess.

But I still wonder. Are my friends my own, or are they simply the only people my empathy makes it easy to be around?


	5. Crush

I've got a crush. He likes someone else.

It'd be fine if she wasn't so pretty. And so different from me.

I'll never look exotic. I have plain brown hair that tends to curl (and frizz) when it rains and green eyes that are more muddy brown than emerald green. I'm tall and skinny and built more like a boy than a girl. I don't have interesting clothes and purple streaks in my hair.

I'm boring Norah. There's no way I can compete against Magenta.

I can't even hate her. She's _nice_. And even though she tries to act as if she's too cool for Zach, I can tell she likes him, too. It's not fair.

I didn't even want to come to school here, but on the first day of school, I couldn't help but notice him. Who wouldn't? Even if he wasn't lit up like a glow stick, he's loud and funny and _cute_. He was nice, too, turning around to talk in hero support when his seat was assigned in front of me.

He was so excited to be there, and his happiness was genuine. There were no false pretenses, and his happiness was infectious. I think I might have managed a smile, after I stopped blushing.

And then Magenta sat next to him, and I was forgotten. Don't get me wrong, he still talks to me before class sometimes, but it's really her he's interested in.

I hate this dumb school. I was fine with tutors. Would have been fine with St. Michael's High. Instead I'm here pretending I care about saving the world (and probably getting myself killed), pretending I don't care that Zach could care less about me, and trying to pretend I hate Magenta.

I've got a crush. It's not fair.


	6. Save the Citizen

There is nothing worse in this school than the worst excuse for gym, ever. Save the Citizen.

How, exactly, my powers will ever do _anything _in this situation, I don't know. My only consolation is that the dummy isn't real. If it was a real citizen panicking, I probably wouldn't be able to keep my head. It's hard enough to focus when I've got three other people hopped up on adrenaline in close proximity.

It was about three weeks into school when my name was called for the first time. They always did random pairings, one sidekick and one hero, any grade, although how that was fair, I have no idea. They paired me with Jasper Salacia, Jessica's older brother. He was in hero track, but he tended more towards brain than brawn.

We got three minutes before the game started to strategize, and Jasper was off and rattling a plan and the strengths and weaknesses of our opponents before I could even get my jersey pulled on all the way. He was upbeat, but I already knew, without feeling his emotions, that we were sunk. Jasper was pretty much the Karate Kid when it came to hand to hand combat, but I hadn't done much more than a few laps around the neighborhood since school started for exercise. And we were up against two seniors – some girl who could manipulate water and a sidekick who could do the chameleon thing like Sean.

Thirty seconds into the game, I was drenched by a tidal wave of water, and when I tried to move towards the citizen, chameleon boy had tripped me. He wasn't even that good at blending in. How had I missed him?

Jasper was trying to distract water girl, but he got drenched again for his troubles. I tried to move towards the citizen again, though I hadn't figured a way to get it down from the ropes. And then chameleon boy tripped me again. Jerk.

Water girl had Jasper cornered and I couldn't see chameleon boy, but then I saw the rope that the citizen was hanging from move. He was better than Sean at blending into things, but I could still see him if I concentrated.

I ran over to the citizen, trying to get a hand on the rope so we'd at least tie, but water girl must have noticed, because she sent what felt like a tidal wave towards me, which pushed me a few yards back from the citizen right as the buzzer sounded.

She seemed nice, though, coming over to give me a hand up and apologizing for all the water. It still didn't make me dry, though. I was shivering and my jersey was sticking to me by the time Jasper came over to me, dripping just as much as I was.

He was smiling though, and didn't even seem phased that we had lost. Most teams took Save the Citizen so seriously. He didn't even seem to care that he was wet. He just shrugged and patted me on the shoulder, and I knew he was being truthful.

And then he told me I should just give them the case of the giggles the next time. I don't think he realizes that empathy doesn't work that way. Well, not mine anyway. I'm not that good.

But still. Other than being soaking wet, which made my hair a mess, oh, and not wearing any makeup, my first Save the Citizen wasn't so bad. I still think it's a pitiful excuse for gym, though.


	7. Fights

I hate fights. Not the physical ones, although those are bad too, but the emotional ones, with the yelling and the grudges. Anger and hurt simmers after those for weeks.

Sean broke up with Amanda today for Jessica. Who wasn't interested in him.

So there was Amanda, yelling at Jessica and Sean, then Sean yelling at Amanda for yelling at Jessica, and Jessica yelling at anyone – including Jasper, who had come over to try and break things up.

It's really hard to blend in when your lunch table has erupted into the next world war. Then again, nothing could top Warren Peace and Will Stronghold's fight two weeks ago. I think half the people staring are hoping to see some fireworks. Of a sort.

I hate fights, though, because when people are over-emotional, it's harder to block them out. So while the three of them are having it out at the table, I've got my head in my hands and a migraine threatening.

I really didn't want to know that Amanda and Sean went to second base because she was worried he was interested in Jessica. Not that she said that – she bumped into me. I'd move from the table, but it's taking all my concentration to block most of their fighting out. The yelling doesn't help.

What I like about Jasper is that he's inherently likeable. He has one of those personalities that are easy-going and genuine. From what I've heard, most people in the school like him. Right now, I practically love him.

Since Jessica started yelling at him for butting in, he promptly butted out – and noticed me. Next thing I know, he's got a hand on my shoulder and trying to figure out if he should grab the nurse. And thinking dirty jokes.

I had never heard the one about the bear and the frog before. It got a laugh, even if I turned red.

Jessica must have told him what I could do. At any rate, he managed to get me up from the table and down the hall to the nurse's. We were halfway there by the time my mind cleared, though I had a splitting headache.

They stuck me in the detention room with two Excedrin and the lights turned off. It was fantastic.

Jess was there to meet me after school, looking apologetic and feeling guilty. I think she said sorry about twenty times on the ride home. I could tell, all of her emotions were centered on me. She wasn't even concerned about the fight right then. I don't know why, but just me. She was just as genuine as Jasper.

I don't know what I've done to deserve friends like them.


	8. Empath

A good empath can make someone feel better. There are two sides to the empath power coin. I have the ability to feel what others feel, to understand their emotions. This sensitivity comes easy to all empaths, although the degree of sensitivity varies. The other side is the ability to influence the emotions of others around them. That's much harder – I've not had much success. Not compared to great superheroes like Truthsayer and Heart.

Why are all the good empaths women, anyway? That's a little sexist, don't you think?

Still, even if I can't make a room full of boys notice me, or stop fights that are brewing, people say they feel better when they talk to me. Even complete strangers will start to pour their hearts out to me at the grocery store, if we're in line long enough. It's as if people can sense a kindred spirit – someone who can feel what they feel.

I wonder if everyone has a little bit of natural empathy?

It's not surprising, then, that after the blowout in the cafeteria, I had a pow-wow with just about everyone and their mother.

First, it was Principle Powers, who seemed to take my migrane as a good sign. She's got it in her head that my powers are still developing. I think – I think she can't let the memory of my mother go. Whenever I'm around her, she's always got a faint stirring of guilt.

I know, it's unethical. But she's my principle – I can't help but peek.

At any rate, she thinks my range to sense things is growing stronger and she wants to retest me at the end of the year. I hate to break it to her, but I'm never going to be hero track material. My powers will never be that strong, and more importantly, I don't have the drive for it. I don't want to be a hero.

After they let me out of the detention room, Jessica had her own talk with me on the bus home. She was worried about me, and then when I asked her about the fight, she was completely bewildered. She had no idea that Sean liked her, or that Amanda was jealous. I knew both – maybe I should have warned her? I don't know what she could have done, but I feel responsible. I should have helped. Even if I can't make a crowd burst out into a Kumbaya expression of love and peace.

I was only home for an hour when Sean stopped by, looking forlorn. He ended up pouring his heart out to me over a package of oreos – and ate every one! If he wasn't so crushed, I would have been mad. They were the double-stuf ones, too.

He's completely smitten with Jessica, which is a pity, because he's not the type of guy she'd ever be interested in. Jessica's head only turns for the boys in hero track, the ones skirting the edge of being bad or the ones who pull out astonishing victories at Save the Citizen. Basically, she loves the jocks. Which Sean is…not.

He's been dating Amanda for six months, and the only reason they started going out was because she was pretty and her friend told his friend that she had a crush on him. He likes her all right, and the teenage boy part of him really likes what they do in his basement, but he didn't like her enough to keep dating her. And he felt a bit guilty going to second base in his basement when he didn't really like her.

Sean's a pretty decent guy.

He left after two hours, feeling lighter than when he came over. He was still hurt and embarrassed, but I think he'll be able to show his face at lunch on Monday. And he apologized, too, for the fight and how it affected me, even though he didn't have to. Sean's still catching up on the whole hero thing. He didn't know any better, but it's nice all the same.

I should have figured, after that, that Amanda would feel the need to unburden herself, but we weren't as friendly as I was with Sean and Jessica, so I didn't expect it. Amanda showed up after dinner with some DVDs and asked if I wanted to have a girls' night. It was a ruse, since we never even put the movies in, but she's not as shallow as I thought she was. Just insecure.

Her mother is the Siren, able to compel people with her voice. Amanda had inherited her power, but nowhere near the level of her mother's. We were more alike than I had thought.

Amanda had been head over heels for Sean, back when they went to Metro Public Middle, and things had been great. He'd always treated her well, and she'd been one of the prettier girls in the school. It also helped that she could use her powers to keep herself popular.

And then she was shipped off to Sky High and told she wasn't good enough to be a hero, and Jessica Salacia, who didn't even have a real power, was prettier and funnier than her – and Sean was interested. I think she could tell Sean was interested before _Sean_ could tell he was interested. Jessica's the antithesis of Amanda. She's more athletic, less frilly.

Amanda didn't stand a chance. Sean's had a thing for athletic girls since he saw the Summer Olympics and the girls playing beach volleyball. Not that I told Amanda that.

I barely got a word in edgewise, to be honest. But I nodded, and made sympathetic noises, and to be honest, I did feel bad for her. And I guess that helped, because she seemed a bit happier when she left, too.

Although I don't know how to politely tell her that we don't really have to go to the mall to buy me new stuff for a makeover. I like being inconspicuous, rather than having the school fall at my feet. Too much attention, and I can't block it all out. It makes me nervous.

I thought that was all, but then I saw Jasper on Saturday, and I think he actually hunted me down. I was at the park – I know, I'm not a kid, but I really love the swings – and I got the impression that dad had told him where I was.

He just wanted to make sure I was okay. I guess it's easier for him because he wasn't all tangled up in the fight.

He sat down in the swing next to me, and he asked about me, just bugging me about stupid things, like what I thought of Medulla's class or who was stronger, Peace or Stronghold. He made me laugh, and it made me feel lighter.

Sometimes an empath needs someone else to make them feel better. I don't think I'd ever make it as a psychologist.


	9. Bitch

I think I might be a bitch.

When it comes to Baron Battle, I'll never forgive him for killing my mother. When it comes to Warren Peace, I have no patience for his anger. _He_ has nothing to be angry about – his dad is _still_ alive, for god's sake. He can go visit him every Sunday. So his little temper tantrums about Will Stronghold have gotten a little old, at least for me. Everyone else seems to love the drama they bring.

Still, even if I think Warren Peace needs to suck it up, I didn't mean to actually tell him that.

I was in the detention room following my study period trying to finish my homework when Principle Powers showed him in. Normally, if I know he'll be in the room, I'll leave before detention starts, so I guess he started another fight some time during sixth period. I'm sure I'll hear all about it from Jessica soon.

Whatever happened, Warren didn't even sit down – as soon as the door shut, he was shoving desks and being an ass. I wasn't even going to say anything, truly I wasn't, until he started muttering about the Commander and Will Stronghold _again_.

I thought I was being quiet when I said "Give me a break," but then he was in my face trying to shout at me, so I guess I wasn't quiet enough.

Normally when I argue with other people, even my dad, who's the most patient person on the planet, I swear, I have a hard time saying what I'm thinking. It's hard, because you're trying to sort through your own emotions and theirs, while trying to be articulate and sometimes mean, if they've made you really mad. The last time I had a fight with someone else, I ended up in my room forty minutes later thinking up really great things to say in response. Clearly, I suck at fighting.

Except, of course, in the detention room.

I think I might have let the fact I couldn't feel his emotions go to my head a little bit, because I think I was really mean. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I feel a little guilty. Actually, I started to feel guilty right around the time I stopped yelling about how immature he was and moved on to the fact that his father killed my mother, so the next time he got mad at Stronghold about his dad, he needed to shut the hell up.

Whoops.

You know in movies when two people are fighting and one person lowers the boom so the other person goes completely still? Yeah, that happened. He got this weird look on his face and sat down in his chair hard, and then he didn't look at me for the rest of the detention period. I think it was the most awkward twenty minutes of my life.

I didn't say sorry, even though I felt bad. Because honestly? I'm not sorry.

I think that _does _make me a bitch. I really hope no one hates me.


	10. Fifteen

I turned fifteen today. I don't feel any different.

All my life, fifteen has been a magical number. My lucky number. I used to think that when I turned fifteen, I'd transform from boring and plain to Victoria's Secret model. I know it's silly, but a part of me still wished I'd go to high school, turn fifteen, and take a turn as the swan instead of the ugly duckling.

I did found some of this fantasy in reality. I've seen the pictures of my mother. She went to high school and whenever I look at pictures, it still surprises me how she went from being a pretty child to a glamorous woman. It was the number fifteen that did it.

She dated fifteen boys in high school, too. I know, it's completely ridiculous – and a part of me wishes I didn't care so much about how I looked. But I do.

I don't want to be a knockout, as Amanda put it. I don't want her makeup and tips to make every boy in school notice me. I don't want people to notice me. I just want Zach to _like_ me.

According to Sean, all you have to do is be pretty. Oh, and "pretty nice." I could tell quite easily that my subtle attempts to get into the mind of boys weren't going to happen. Jessica's advice was similarly unhelpful. "Be confident." Does she not _know_ me?

Boys should be easy. They should notice you, talk to you, and realize they think you're the prettiest girl in the world. I don't even care about the buying me stuff or taking me on expensive dates bit. (Although going to a movie once in a while would be nice). I don't even want to start thinking about Homecoming, no matter how many times Amanda keeps trying to brightly bring it up at lunch.

I just want Zach to turn around in his seat in Hero Support and have his face light up. Not literally.


	11. Pretty

I didn't want to go to homecoming, but Amanda talked me into it.

In truth, I felt sorry for her. While she'd taken the breakup with Sean hard, she'd summoned all her dignity and managed to be nice at lunch. Although nice generally meant not being hateful to Sean and Jessica, and spending all of lunch talking to me.

Still. It was better than I'd probably take my first breakup.

And that was how I ended up going to Homecoming. Amanda was still hurting over the whole thing with Sean, and no matter what her mother said, she wasn't going to use her powers to snag another date. And she definitely wasn't going to go with Jess, even if she wasn't interested in Sean.

Which left me.

Granted, it didn't take much to talk me into it. I knew it was important to Amanda. I don't really have anything in particular against dances, but it's tough sometimes being in big crowds. It meant a lot to her though, and roaming the mall for weeks on end to find the perfect dress helped take her mind off things. Of course, this also gave her the opportunity for her to give me the big makeover she'd been plotting.

Dad was no help, of course. Amanda just batted her eyes and he handed over his credit card. I thought he'd been had, but later he told me I needed friends. Even friends who kept trying to get me into dresses cut down to you-know-where.

So I ended up with some new clothes, a new haircut, a drawer full of makeup, and a dress for Homecoming that was prettier than anything else I'd ever seen. Somehow, Amanda had managed to figure out I had a crush on one of the boys at school – thankfully, not _who_ – and she'd been all the more determined to make me pretty.

We spend the day doing our nails and hair, and Dad made us dinner before the dance. Amanda wouldn't let me look in the mirror when she did my makeup, but once I did get a peek, I realized why.

I was _pretty_. We'd found a purple dress that made my eyes greener, and Amanda had somehow made my makeup look natural – which was far better than my previous efforts. She'd pulled my hair up into a soft bun, with little pieces falling down, and it _looked_ soft, even if it was sprayed into place with the equivalent of liquid cement.

I figured I looked good when Dad tried not to cry and took about a thousand pictures. I just knew the night was going to be memorable after that.


End file.
